Thief King's Prisoner
by WyvernRider64
Summary: Thief King Bakura has captured Priest Mahaad and plans to torture him but for what purposes? Priest Mahaad tries to figure a way to escape Bakura's clutches.
1. Chapter 1

"Ow, that pain.

That's annoying.

Why does my head hurt?

Ugh it's really pounding hard.

What's happened to me now?

Okay, think, what happened to me last?

Ugh, why does it hurt to think so much?

I remember I was walking to the palace.

I felt something bite my leg and I got really tired.

So, where am I? I just need to open my eyes and look."

Mahaad opened his eyes to find himself... Nowhere?

He could see himself, but... There was nothing there. Just blackness. Emptiness.

"Aha there's a bit of light ahead of me though.

It's getting bigger, and brighter. I think it's moving closer to me."

He felt heat coming from the light as it continued getting closer.

His body was enveloped from the warmth.

"It's too close, too bright."

The priest closed his eyes, as it shone more brilliantly, blindingly so.

It shone so intensely that he could see the light through his closed eyelids, hurting his eyes until he covered his face with his arm.

The heat began to radiate out more strongly. Mahaad started to feel very hot. Quickly, it escalated to a burning sensation all over his body. He felt as if his skin was beginning to burn off.

He yelled out in agony from this feeling that he would be incinerated at any moment. The pain became unbearable, and as he wished this horrible feeling to stop, it did.

Breathing heavily from fear, Mahaad opened his eyes to find he was lying down and chained to a stone table. He was in a dark room, dimly lit by torches.

He heard a voice. "I see you've awoken. I hope you had a nice little sleep there." The voice chuckled.

Mahaad recognized that laugh. "Bakura! But... How did you capture me?"

"That's right." Bakura grinned and stepped into his line of view. "You remember that prick on your leg. A dart." Bakura examined the Millenium Ring which he held in his hand.

"No! My ring!"

"That's right."

The priest grimaced. "Why though? Why did you take me here?"

"Oh, to worry the Pharaoh. I know how close you two are and I certainly will enjoy the look on his face after I tell him what I've done with you."

"What do you mean?" he asked tentatively.

"You see there's another reason I brought you here. I happen to enjoy causing pain to people. I greatly enjoy hearing people scream from pain, whimpering helplessly and sobbing as they're hurting."

Mahaad winced at that. "You damn sadist! I won't allow you to torment me or my Pharaoh like this."

"Oh really? And what are you going to do to stop me then?" he asked smugly.

Mahaad didn't bother to reply. He began murmuring something in a strange language, channeling his energy to break himself loose of these chains. Something didn't feel quite right though. He could feel his energy gathering, but he couldn't stop it. He stopped speaking but he was unable to stop the flow; he felt himself growing weaker and weaker.

"Looks like your magic didn't work out as well as you'd hoped." Bakura smirked victoriously.

"What did you do to me?"

"You see those chains? Once somebody tries to use magic they'll suck the energy right out of them. Very useful for catching a magician wouldn't you agree?"

"B-bastard!" he panted, breathless now.

The priest stared Bakura right in the eyes with pure hatred. Bakura kept the eye contact for a few moments, staring back. He then started laughing uproariously.

"Boy, you've almost got me scared with that look. If only you weren't so helpless lying here."

Bakura strode up to the magician and grabbed him by the hair, yanking his head upwards and enjoying seeing Mahaad grimace with his pain clearly present.

"There's nothing you can do now, so why not relax and make it easier for yourself?"

Mahaad tried to spit in Bakura's face but missed narrowly.

Bakura slammed his head back against the table roughly which was met with an audible thunk.

"Oh I'm going to enjoy this a lot." The thief grinned as he pulled out a vial of some strange purple liquid. "I recommend doing this the easy way and drinking it. If you don't it's going to get real ugly real quick."

"I'll never do what you say." He still stared with an intense hatred directed towards his enemy.

Bakura shrugged. "Suit yourself."

The thief pinched his nose closed and held his head down as the magician struggled to free his nose. He couldn't manage to escape, and was forced to open his mouth to relieve his aching lungs. The moment he did, however, Bakura shoved the vial into his mouth. He choked and spluttered as the liquid entered his lungs, but still ended up swallowing some of the strange drink.

Mahaad coughed up some of the purple liquid, his lungs burning while Bakura just laughed at his pain.

"I warned you magician. I'm hurt that you didn't take my advice."

"What was that liquid?" Mahaad asked, still coughing.

"Oh I'll tell you sooner or later. For now you can lay there and enjoy yourself. I've got things to attend to."


	2. Chapter 2

"What could be in that drink Bakura gave me?" Mahaad wondered aloud after the thief had left the room, his head still pounding from earlier. "I don't think I want to find out what it does."

The priest's breathing had returned to its normal rhythm at least, although he still felt too tired to try to do anything. Magic wouldn't help him anyways with those blasted magic-sucking chains holding him down.

While he lay there, he heard water dripping off somewhere in the distance.

He examined the shackles that bound him, experimentally hitting them against the table he tried to see if there was any way he could get them off or break them. He sighed. It didn't seem easy to get free, and he didn't think Bakura would be letting him go anytime soon. He soon resigned himself to sitting and waiting around until Bakura got back.

The water drips seemed to get louder, and Mahaad felt himself growing annoyed at the sound.

"Why is that sound so annoying to me? I shouldn't be getting so annoyed at this."

He took a few deep breaths and tried to calm himself down, but realized it was pointless as he could still hear the ever louder water dripping to the floor. It seemed much more often than before too.

Mahaad pushed himself up and tried to see if he could find the source of the dripping water, but he could only see a small puddle of water slowly growing as it flowed into the room. It was very strange, he didn't think the water was dripping that fast. The puddle continued to grow rapidly as the magician watched, spreading out across the room. "At least that awful dripping sound stopped" he said to himself.

He could hear the water pouring onto the floor from outside of the room now, and the puddle was spread out across the whole floor now.

"Bakura wouldn't really leave me here to drown would he? No, he's too smart for that" he thought. "He's probably just trying to break me down, to mess with my head. He wouldn't just kill me like this." he reassured himself.

The water level continued to rise higher in the room, but Mahaad tried to remain calm, thinking that Bakura would come in and pounce at the first sign of weakness on his part.

When the water level reached about halfway up the table, he glanced down, starting to sweat. The doubt that he had was starting to grow. What if Bakura wasn't playing with him, what if the water was really going to drown him. The Pharaoh would be so distraught, he didn't want his friend to feel guilty about his death. He swallowed, knowing there was nothing he could do about it.

When the water reached the bottom of the table, he really started to worry. He closed his eyes and prayed to the gods, flinching once he felt the water touch him and praying faster.

The priest decided he'd rather face humiliation at the hands of Bakura than die and cause the Pharaoh guilt, if that was what Bakura was after.

"Okay Bakura, you got me, come on stop the water" he said a lot more confidently than he felt. In reality he was shaking, hoping Bakura would stop the water from rising. It was almost at his neck and showed no signs of stopping.

"Bakura come on, you're not going to let me die are you? After you went through all of the work of capturing me?" Mahaad was fully terrified now, the water reached the bottom of his chin.

"Help me!" he shouted, trying to force his head higher above the water, but was held back by the chains. He couldn't believe Bakura was just going to kill him like this. He took a big breath just as the water level reached his mouth.

The magician tried to reassure himself again that Bakura would save him as he began to run out of breath. His lungs burned and he needed to breathe. He tried to hold his breath, but couldn't take it anymore. He instinctively took a breath and took in nothing but water. "I'm really going to drown" he thought to himself, not believing the whole situation. He painfully felt his lungs fill up with the liquid, and lost consciousness.


	3. Chapter 3

When Mahaad came to, the very first thing he heard was that same dripping sound again. He opened his eyes and saw he was in the same room, still bound to the table with those magic-draining chains. The floor wasn't even wet in the slightest. The magician struggled to understand what had happened. He remembered vividly running out of air and breathing water in, and how painful it was.

"Was I dreaming?" he thought to himself.

He must have been, because there was no way that the floor would dry off that quickly and leave no trace of water.

He sighed and laid his head back down on the table.

"It's strange that I had that nightmare, I haven't had one in years. Why all of the sudden now? I wonder if it has something to do with that potion he gave me."

The magician pondered this for a moment. Was Bakura trying to torture him to get him to reveal something about the Pharaoh? Well the thief would have to try harder than a few nightmares Mahaad decided.

"I better not go asleep in case it is from that potion he forced me to drink. There's not much to do here but I suppose I'll try to keep my mind occupied. At least that dripping isn't like before, I can tolerate it at least."

The priest knew that Bakura did like torturing people, but he didn't think that the thief would go out of his way to kidnap him. Even though he was close to the Pharaoh, it didn't seem like that's all the thief had in mind.

"What is he trying to get from me? He knows I won't tell him anything. I care about the Pharaoh far too much to give anything away to him."

He wished he could tell his Pharaoh not to worry about him, how the magician would gladly suffer this torture in order to protect him. There was nothing he could do though. He was trapped here. Forced to suffer his own worrying. He was afraid of what the Pharaoh would try to do to free him.

He didn't know what the Pharaoh would try. Bakura would probably threaten his life to keep his Pharaoh from doing anything to him. Mahaad didn't think that his Pharaoh would give the priest up without a fight, and he was afraid that the Pharaoh would try to offer himself in his place. There was no way that he could live with himself if the Pharaoh was forced to suffer what he was being put through.

"There's no way I can rely on others for help. I'm going to have to free myself." he decided. "I want to get myself free before the Pharaoh or any of my friends tries something risky for my sake."

"How were you planning on doing that eh magician?" asked Bakura who'd slipped in without Mahaad noticing.

"Don't worry about it Bakura," Mahaad said, trying to hide his surprise. He couldn't let the thief notice any weakness.

"Well if you insist. There's nothing you can do anyways." Bakura smirked at him as he pulled out a knife and started to stroke the blade.

"This one's one of my favorites you know. She and I have been through a lot." He smiled brightly and stared Mahaad straight in the eyes. "She's cut through a lot too. Human flesh always cuts smoothly with her."

He lunged at the priest with the knife and stopped his hand hovering only an inch above the priest's face. Mahaad half-flinched and tensed up but still managed to stare down Bakura as he jumped at him.

"Very nice magician." The thief licked his lips. "I knew you were going to be a fun one to break. I hope you last a while for me. My last, ah, 'subject', wasn't very much fun. He didn't have any mettle like you've got." He laughed as he made a clean slice across the middle of Mahaad's nose. The priest clenched his teeth at the pain as he lay still, not making a sound.

"Looks like I've got my work cut out for me. Don't worry, I'll take my time with you, magician. I don't mind the extra work. Now then, I'll just leave you here and let you get back to your _escape plan_. I can't wait to hear how you're going to free yourself." He laughed as he strode out of the room.


	4. Chapter 4

"I can't wait to hear either," the magician grumbled to himself as Bakura left.

He sighed and tried to think of a way to trick Bakura into releasing him. He knew the thief was smart, so it'd have to be something very convincing.

Suddenly Bakura burst into the room and shut the door. He cast a locking charm on the door from what Mahaad was able to make out from Bakura's muttering under his breath.

"What did you do magician?" the thief hissed as he pulled out his knife and held it next to Mahaad's throat.

"You're going to have to be more specific than that." The priest faked a grin at him, trying to act cocky.

"I'm not playing around how did they find us?" the thief asked as he pressed the knife up against the skin, drawing blood.

Mahaad flinched. "Alright alright stop. I have no idea what you're talking about and hurting me isn't going to make me know any more."

Bakura gazed at him for a moment before withdrawing the blade. He started to turn away but suddenly dragged the knife against his cheek, leaving a deep cut as the priest grunted and gritted his teeth together.

"Some of your _friends_ found this place and are trying to find you. Don't get too excited though. They'll find some surprises instead of you."

"The other priests are very capable you know," he spat through the pain. "They'll find me alright. They're stronger than you too."

"As a whole, maybe. I don't intend on keeping them all around though. One of you is enough."

There was a pounding of feet outside of the room, then a thump against the door. Bakura swiftly gagged the priest before he had a chance to shout out to his friends.

Mahaad moved around, struggling to free his mouth from the gag when Bakura brought a closed fist smashing down on his stomach, forcing all of the air out of his lungs.

Bakura stood there, unmoving and stared at the door, ready to jump if need be.

The door exploded in towards the two as multiple priests charged into the room, casting magic at the thief.

Bakura had been stunned before he was able to retaliate. He fell to the ground, frozen.

When Mahaad regained his breath, Seto was freeing him from his bonds while Isis and Shada stood around Bakura, ready in case he managed to free himself.

"Come on Mahaad time to head home" said Seto as he lifted him onto his back.

Mahaad didn't have the energy to do anything other than cling to his back as Seto quickly exited the room.

"We'd better get out of here before Bakura can summon that awful Diabound," Isis told the group.

"Agreed," said Shada.

They quickly left the dungeon they were in, got on horses, and rode back to the palace. When they got there Mahaad went to his room and laid down on his bed.

"You know, that seemed way too easy," Mahaad said to himself.

He heard a voice whisper in his ear, "That's because it was."

He opened his eyes to see Bakura smiling down at him. He was still in the dungeon.


	5. Chapter 5

"Have a pleasant nap?" the thief asked mockingly.

"Bakura..." the priest said, disoriented. "What?"

"You were having a nice sleep and I didn't want to wake you. But now that you're awake we can have some fun." He cackled.

Mahaad felt a crushing sense of despair. It had all been just a dream? He still was Bakura's prisoner.

"What's the matter? Aren't you happy to see I haven't abandoned you here all alone?" the thief taunted. "Now we can spend plenty of quality time together."

Mahaad didn't want any "quality time" that Bakura was going to spend with him. Unfortunately for him he wasn't able to do much but pray to the gods that he could escape soon.

"Let's have some fun, shall we?" Bakura pulled out a knife and in one clean movement sliced the priest's chest open diagonally.

Mahaad gritted his teeth together and held his breath in to try to let any signs of weakness out.

"Hmm it looks like that didn't do anything. I'm going to have to try this again. Let's try a different angle and see what happens," the thief said as he brought the knife down and made a cut the opposite way, forming a crimson "X" in the center of his chest.

Mahaad released his pent-up breath in a grunt, determined to remain strong as he grimaced.

Bakura slammed his fist down right in the center of the two cuts, and the priest ended up biting his tongue hard trying to contain his agony. The sharp pain from the wounds was a constant, relentless force, renewing itself with every heartbeat already, and Bakura had only made it hurt worse. The blood had splattered across his chest and the thief's hand.

With the same hand Bakura grabbed tightly onto a wad of Mahaad's hair and raised his head forcibly so they could look eye to eye.

"How very, strong of you," Bakura complimented condescendingly. "Most people start sobbing by the very first cut. Then more start to scream by the second. But you're more disciplined than that. You won't let a few cuts reduce you to some pitiless wretch will you?

"Don't worry though. You'll crack just like rest of them. I relish the challenge of breaking strong-willed people like you. Your kind are much more fun than those weaklings who beg for mercy. Just like that girl I believe you knew. What was her name... It started with an 'M". Hmmm... Mana was it?"

"No," thought Mahaad. His body grew cold as ice, and he became numb to the pain of his chest.

"No, no, no, not Mana. How could he have gotten Mana! Gods damn him! She's done nothing to deserve anything he's done to her!"

"What did you do to her!" Mahaad shouted.

"Oh I didn't do anything too awful to her," he replied cooly. "Just the usual; cuts, whips, that sort of thing. Oh, and I may or may not have told her that you were dead."

"You did what?"

"Yes I told her I killed you, and she didn't seem to like that. After that I seemed to have accidentally left a knife in the room with her. For some reason she offed herself. It was very unfortunate. Such a promising young girl though, so tragic. I couldn't tell you why she did it though, I'm clueless." He grinned.

Mahaad started shaking, filling up with rage.

"How. Dare. You."

"How dare I what? I didn't kill her. And I told you it was a coincidence that I happened to leave one of my knives in the room soon after telling her that, remember?" He flashed another smile at the priest.

"I will murder you," he said, staring with an intense, hate-filled glare at the thief.

"How edgy. Anyways don't feel too guilty. There's nothing you could have done about it anyways. Oh wait, that's a perfect reason to feel guilty. Ignore me."

Mahaad couldn't take it any more, he strained against his chains as much as he could, to try to strangle the thief, but he was getting nowhere.

"It seems like you're feeling a tad upset. I'll let myself out now and let you simmer down for the time being. Toodles."

"I'll get you for this Bakura you bastard!" Mahaad screamed after him.

"Buh-bye." The thief shut the door.


	6. Chapter 6

"No... How could he do that..."

The magician collapsed on the table, tears flowing from his eyes at the loss of Mana.

"How could I fail to protect her, my favorite student. I'm worthless."

After a few minutes of grieving, a thought occurred to him.

"What if he's lying to me. What if it's not real, it's just like these dreams I've been having!" he thought.

He clung to that hope for a moment, but realized that if the thief could capture him this easily, it would be simple for him to murder a magician in training.

"I'm a failure. If I can't even save my own student or myself, how can I expect to protect the Pharaoh from harm!"

He slammed his fist against the table in anger and frustration.

"The table!" he realized. "The chains are around the table legs, and if I can make the table fall over I can escape!"

The priest thought for a moment, then threw his body to one side quickly. He couldn't feel the table move, but he still had to keep trying. He pushed and pulled against the chains as he jerked his body to try to shift the table. After several tries, he felt the table lift up and heard a thunk a moment later.

"I've gotta keep up the momentum," he thought, straining harder.

He kept rocking the table, and finally managed to tip it over the edge and make it fall over. He laid on the ground for a moment, panting for breath. It was no time to rest though, Bakura might have heard the noise. He pulled the chains off of the top of the table legs, then flipped the table back on its other side and pulled the other chains off.

When Mahaad got the chains completely free of the table, he realized that he had no way to remove the shackles on him, and had to take the chains around with him. To try to keep quiet, he gathered the chains up and carried them with him. He exited the room and luckily escaped the building without incident. It seemed like things were finally starting to work out for him.

Once outside, he encountered a raging sandstorm, and he found he could see nothing around for miles but the building he was in. There was no way he could stay in there with Bakura, but he didn't know how he was going to make it very far in the sand-storm either. He decided anything was better than staying with the thief again. He could get his revenge later. "Mana I'm sorry," he thought. "I can't do anything to Bakura now. But I swear I will make him regret what he has done to you."

The priest took his shirt off and wrapped it around his face to cover his mouth and nose from the sand. He started trudging through the dunes, but progress was slow in that blasted sandstorm. He realized how thirsty and hungry he was; he hadn't had any since Bakura kidnapped him. The sand's dryness only made it worse.

He felt the sand stick to his skin, and get trapped inside of his clothes, making every movement uncomfortable. Still, he walked on. There was no way he was going to stop at anything like that. He turned around and couldn't see the building anymore. He thanked the gods for his escape and briefly prayed that he may find his way to safety soon.

He kept walking for a few more minutes, and saw a figure in the distance! He started going faster, trying to reach them.

"Excuse me sir," he said as he approached the hooded man. His face was wrapped up as well, and Mahaad couldn't tell much about him.

"Do you know where the nearest town is?"

"I do. In fact I'm headed there right now. Would you like me to take you there with me?"

"Yes, I would be very grateful."

"Come with me then."

"What's your name?" the man asked.

"It's Mahaad."

"Name's Kaafti."

They walked together in silence for a few hours. Mahaad was surprised the man didn't ask him any questions about the chains.

Eventually they made it to a small town with 20 or so buildings. They walked into one in the center of town, into a tavern of sorts it seemed.

"Took you long enough Kaafti," said a familiar and dreaded voice from across the room as they entered. Mahaad felt like he wanted to throw up.

"Yeah well he took a while to get to me you know."

"I suppose it's not your fault then," Bakura said to Kaafti. "Good work as always." He tossed a gold coin at the man.

"Sure, sure, I try." He bit the coin and left the two of them alone, satisfied.

"So how was your little vacation?" asked Bakura, sarcastically. "Make any new friends? How about you have a drink before we head back home." He offered the magician a glass.

Mahaad wasn't sure what to do. On one hand, he hated Bakura and wanted to hurt him, but Bakura would probably want him to do that. He doubted he could touch Bakura if he came after him. He didn't think he could run away either. Mahaad sullenly took the drink, grateful at least for some relief to his parched mouth.

"The drink's on me," said the thief, all smiles. "It's a reward for breaking your way out of the room. You weren't as quick as I'd expected from you, but nonetheless you figured it out."

Mahaad drank the liquid, his throat feeling better at least.

"Now then if you're done let's head back home. I've got plenty more for you to do back there."

Resigning to his fate, he gloomily followed the thief out.


	7. Chapter 7

They rode back to the building from before on horses with Bakura leading the pair. When they got back, Bakura told Mahaad, "I recommend you cooperate. It'll be much easier for you."

Mahaad didn't put up any resistance as Bakura chained him to a wall in a different room this time. He figured there was no use wasting energy trying to escape. He was already tired, and didn't think he could do anything to the thief.

"Good boy." Bakura laughed as he tightened the chains holding him up against the wall. "Now I hope you won't be a problem from now on. It would be very unpleasant for you to inconvenience me. If you keep acting well for me though, perhaps I might give you a treat later. You'd like that wouldn't you?" He pet the magician's head a few times.

Mahaad's cheeks flushed with shame. He was being treated like an animal, and there was nothing he could do about it. Curse that thief, humiliating me like this.

"What's the matter magician, don't like being treated like my pet?"

"No," he said flatly.

"Oh, my _humble_ apologies. You should have spoken up sooner. How about instead I treat you like my prisoner." He grinned.

"That... That's not necessary."

"Oh no I insist. I wouldn't want to make you feel _inferior_. You are much _greater_ than that after all," the thief said, emphasizing his condescending language.

He walked to the other side of the room where a lever stuck out of the wall.

"I'm a good warden you know, I'm giving you the honor of trying this out first. Nothing's too good for you my little high value prisoner."

He pulled the lever and Mahaad saw the room spin. What? The room was turning! Wait... It wasn't the room, it was him. Bakura hadn't chained Mahaad to just a wall he realized, it was a giant wheel which spinning around now.

The wheel slowly rotated until it was upside down. Bakura pulled the lever back up to its original position, leaving Mahaad upside down. He felt the blood start to rush to his face.

"I'll let you enjoy that for a little while. I'll be back in about an hour to check up on you. Make sure to tell me how you liked it when I return." He cackled as he left the room.

The priest hung there, already feeling his head start to throb from the blood. It was going to be a long hour.

"I really hate that condescending attitude of his," Mahaad said to himself. He sighed. "Maybe I should just give up trying to escape. He's just too good and I'm too weak to do anything. I tried to escape and look where that got me. Now I'm worse off than before."

He tried to move his body so he could swing the wheel around the other way but found he couldn't move it.

"I need to free myself somehow but there's no escape. Oh what's the point anyways. There's nothing I can do. I can't even move."

He hit his head against the wheel a few times softly, wishing for it all to end.

"Mana, I want to avenge you, but it doesn't look like I'm going to be able to do that anytime soon. Just when I thought I'd escape his grasp it turns out he planned the whole thing to get my hopes up. I know I should keep fighting him but... It'd just be easier to give up.

"No. I can't give in. Not to this, this, freak. This monster. I'll get out of here. No matter what it takes. I won't let him do anything to hurt the Pharaoh any more than he has already."

He waited there for Bakura to come back with renewed determination.

The thief returned, cheerful as always, asking him what he thought. Mahaad simply stared at him, stonefaced.

"Oh come on magician, surely you've got something to say about that eh?" Bakura asked.

"I have no more words for you, thief."

"You don't? I'm insulted. Offended even. After all the care I've put into making sure your stay here was memorable? And you won't even talk to me anymore? Tsk tsk tsk magician, very rude of you. Don't you have any manners"

He slapped the priest across the face suddenly, then kneed him in the face. Blood dripped up his face out of his nose.

"Oops. I seem to have lost my temper."

Mahaad was shaking with silent rage at this point, glaring at Bakura.

"Ah well no harm done I suppose. That should heal up without too much pain."

He chuckled as he pulled the lever again, turning Mahaad right-side up again and leaving him there.

"Anyways I came to drop this off. I thought of you when I saw it. I thought you might like to look at it as a reminder."

He left the room and returned, carrying a staff. Mana's staff. It had to be hers. None of the other magicians had a staff like it.

He set the staff leaning against the corner of the room, right in Mahaad's view.

"It should give you something to think about anyways."

Mahaad faltered for a moment, showing dismay clear on his face. Bakura smirked at his reaction.

"Too bad you couldn't have stopped her," he said. "If only you'd been there with her. Ah but you know it's all history now. There's no way to change the past."

Mahaad was determined not to let the thief get the better of him. He could try to bait him into another reaction all he wanted. He wasn't going to let Bakura get a rise out of him this time. He looked the other way and stared at the wall, to try to keep his mind occupied.

"Anyways you were right. I was treating you too easily, as if you weren't worth my time. But no matter, I'll make sure to give you the time you need soon. I know prisoners get bored from being kept up for long periods of time. Don't worry I have plenty of ideas to keep us both busy for a long time. So sit tight and I'll be back soon."


	8. Chapter 8

Mahaad hung there, chained to the wall motionless. Expressionless. His mind was blank. He tried to keep himself from thinking about anything. He couldn't let his thoughts wander, or else he might think about... No. He wouldn't let himself feel anything. Not with Bakura coming back soon. He knew how Bakura enjoyed his anguish, and he had to stop. Maybe the thief would leave him alone if he didn't give him any reaction. He could only hope.

Truthfully he was doubtful. If the thief got bored of him, he might just kill him. Well if that happens I hope the other priests will have figured something was wrong by my disappearance and will guard the Pharaoh even more carefully.

No, what am I saying! I've got to quit thinking like this. I must remain strong.

"I'm back. Did you miss me?" the thief asked as he came back in the room.

Mahaad remained silent as he stared at the ceiling.

"So I still don't get a response? I still am very unhappy that you're being so unappreciative. I guess I'll have to teach you respect. And you know what they say. Pain is the best teacher. Especially for someone as stubborn as you."

Mahaad felt his shirt being ripped off followed by a sharp pain across his shoulder.

He grunted at the shock and looked down to see Bakura holding a whip.

"Like it?" the thief grinned. "It's one of my favorite tools to break in new prisoners."

The magician forced himself to look away from it, trying to focus on the wall again.

Bakura brought the whip down harder against the priest's bare chest, against the still recent knife wounds.

He let out a yelp, wanting to curl up and cover his wounds, but the chains kept him from moving or protecting himself.

Bakura whipped him again and again, four, five, six times, more; Mahaad lost track. He let out a cry with each stroke of the whip, and the pain overwhelmed his senses.

He didn't think anymore, all he could do is bide the time by between the lashes when it hurt the least. Time slowed to a crawl, and every excruciating moment was unending. He only had a single hope, that the pain would stop; that the whipping would stop. It was all he could focus on, other than the agony of a thousand needles all being forcefully jammed into his chest at once. His limbs subconsciously pulled at their restraints, turning his wrists dark shades of blue and purple.

After what seemed to be hours, Bakura finally stopped whipping the priest.

"Well magician, what did you think?" He smirked.

Mahaad didn't respond. He couldn't respond, panting heavily, still recovering from the immense torment he just suffered.

"Of course, I was going easy on you. I didn't even break a sweat. I thought I'd give you a break, since this was your first time."

He kept talking, enjoying listening to himself speak, but Mahaad wasn't paying attention. Now that he could finally manage to process what was happening, he saw he was bleeding, a lot. He didn't think he'd be okay with his wounds aggravated like that. He clenched his fist, coping with the pain.

"Bakura," he said, surprised at the hoarseness of his voice. "Don't you think you should stop taunting me and do something about these wounds?" He groaned from his chest aching uncontrollably.

"I'm not stupid magician. I know you won't survive if I let those cuts fester. Although I don't know if you deserve me helping you out because of your insolence... Ah well. I'm sure you'll repent your ways sooner or later. You can't do that if you're not alive I suppose."

Mahaad breathed a sigh of relief. At least he'd live for now. He knew this really only the beginning of the kinds of physical torture Bakura could do to him, but he swore he'd remain strong and avenge Mana, and he intended to do just that.


	9. Chapter 9

The last thing Mahaad remembered was Bakura giving him another potion to drink, then feeling incredibly drowsy and quickly falling to sleep. It was a fitful slumber, full of strange dreams. He recalled images of a giant whip, curled up like a snake, tearing his clothes to shreds and forcing him deep inside of the coils into a room where countless versions of Bakura laughed sinisterly at him. He looked down and saw dog legs, and somehow knew he'd turned into a dog. They jeered at him, kicking him and swearing at him while a personified staff pulled at one of them, begging them to stop. Without warning, the staff spontaneously exploded into flames with a shriek, and the Bakuras laughed louder now, hurting his ears. He whimpered and curled up as the thieves grew taller and taller. As one brought its giant foot down on him, he awoke with a start, breathing heavily.

The first thing he noticed upon waking up was the smell of fire. Had something caught alight?

He jolted upright and looked around, finding Bakura smiling while playing around with some coals in a fire.

"What's the matter magician? Worried the building was going to burn down around you? That wouldn't be any fun. Don't worry you're safe from that at any rate. I'm not too sure that you're entirely safe..."

Mahaad decided not to respond, laying his head back down.

"Ah, I'm in a different room," he realized. "I'm lying down again. That's good at least," he thought. "I wonder what Bakura is up to this time... Whatever it is I don't think I'm going to like it."

"You better be thankful magician. I'm cooking up something special just for you. I personally like meat to be a little on the burnt side. What about you?"

He gave no response.

He used the tongs he was holding to pick up one of the coals in the fire.

"I'll just assume you're the same for that matter. Now then hold still," the thief said as he brought the coal over to him. He held it over the magician's face for a moment. The magician could feel the heat coming from the coal and started acting noticeably nervous, blinking a lot as beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

The thief brought the coal back up, saying, "I always love the heat from a nice fire. I suppose a coal's a bit different when it's being held over you. Ah well no matter."

He dropped the coal on top of Mahaad's chest.

Mahaad started screaming from the pain, from the heat from the coal. It burned his flesh, searing the skin. This was nothing like the pain from the whip, it was a thousand times more precise, more deadly, more vicious. He felt every pore cry out in anguish, every nerve explode in protest. It was all too much, the sheer pain of the heat. The coal burned cold, unnaturally cold; his senses failed at trying to convey how intensely the coal burned, and he felt a sharp icy pain pierce his senses. He pulled at his restraints, ever so desperately trying to throw the coal off of him but he was simply shackled too tight. He couldn't do a thing. He couldn't move the coal. He twisted and jerked but his sole reward was him bruising his wrists at the effort. The sensation was so unbearable, Mahaad wanted to die, for the pain to end, for him to never to have to feel this horrible awful pain again.

He begged for the burning to stop, for the thief to help, "Take it off! Take it off!" he screeched, but all the thief did was laugh uproariously at the agony of the magician. How could such a monster exist. How could anyone enjoy causing this much misery. Mahaad didn't know. He never wanted anyone to hurt like this, to have to feel this awful sensation. Except for Bakura. The coal kindled his hatred even further, and he felt his emotions flare up. Bakura! How many people has he hurt? Far. Too. Many. He'd killed Mana. He was halfway on his way to killing Mahaad. How many before him had this fiend harmed? The way he talked about torture, how experienced he was with it. It sickened him. It enraged him. He refused to allow this monstrous beast the pleasure of harming any more. He was angry, much, much angrier than he had ever been in his entire life. He noticed the coal burnt him less and less; he started to feel warm, soothingly so. The pain faded away. Mahaad opened his eyes and saw the coal had disappeared. He noticed that everything around him started to shimmer.

The soothing warmth enveloped him. But he was the one radiating the heat. He could feel it. He was sure of it. He burned fiercely, angrily, with a pent up rage against his tormentor on the inside, and on the outside. The metal chains which had restrained him began to melt around him into a puddle. He was free. Free! He examined where the coal had been placed on him. The skin was blackened, but was covered in flames! The fire started to spread as he watched, covering the knife and whip wounds from before.

He looked up at Bakura who had been watching him this whole time.

"Well well well thief," the magician spat contemptuously. "What were those plans you had for me?" He grinned, feeling completely alive. His body tingled, and he felt a strangely soothing heat fill his body from the inside.

Bakura wasted no times with words, he pulled out a dagger and flung it at Mahaad.

Mahaad laughed at the attack, burning more powerfully in response. The dagger melted into a liquid at his feet.

The thief bolted for the door at top speed, trying to escape.

The magician let him, cackling madly at the prospect of his revenge at last.

He jumped after him, quicker than he thought possible.

"This power... It feels so good," he thought to himself. "More, more!"

The flames leapt higher off his wounds as he embraced the magic that had been bottled up inside of him.

He chased him down the hallways as Bakura threw knives at him in a swift retreat.

Fearlessly and confidently he charged straight at them, melting them as they came close. He continued to pursue the thief without making any gains, enjoying the chase. Adrenaline pumped through his body as he relished the chance to finally punish his punisher.

Bakura ducked into a room and Mahaad followed after him, laughing, "If you want to go ahead and give yourself up now I promise I won't hurt you too much."

When the magician entered the room he saw the thief toss a bucket of water at him. It was too late to dodge it. He increased his power again and evaporated the water before it even got within a yard of him.

"Nice try _thief_. But it didn't work."

"Didn't it?" Bakura smirked.

Mahaad looked down and saw the flames start to weaken, and then, altogether disappear.

"Looks like you burned yourself out."

"I... No..." Mahaad said slowly, realizing in his arrogance he'd squandered all of his magic.

"Now what was that about someone giving up to someone else?" he asked.


	10. Chapter 10

Mahaad dropped to one knee, suddenly feeling weak.

"I'll give you the same deal as you gave me. Give yourself up now and I won't hurt you too much." The thief smirked.

The pain began to return now that the power had faded. That glorious feeling, gone. He could have done so much with that magic; he could have done away with the thief, and probably made his way home too. The pain seemed to be less than before, thankfully, yet his chest still throbbed with each heartbeat, reminding him of how injured he was.

"Gods why am I such a damn fool!" he thought. "I lost my opportunity... I don't know if I can take him in a fight anymore... Especially when I'm wounded like this. I don't know how quickly my magic will return to me after I used it like that..." He blinked and shook his head. "I have to try anyways. I've made it so far, I can't give up now! Not after what he did to Mana."

Mahaad stood and took up a fighting stance. He was very thankful for his Pharaoh's insistence that he study physical fighting as well as magical fighting.

He heard a hissing sound through the air, and ducked his head just in time to avoid a knife flung by Bakura.

"You were standing there so long I'd almost thought you fell asleep," mocked the thief. "I'm guessing you're going to be _courageous_ and fight me, right?

"I will fight you, don't doubt that."

"Well I hope you have better control of yourself in a fight than you do of your magic, magician. It'll be boring if I just beat you in an instant. Honestly though I don't expect any more from you. You've proved to be weak the whole way through, but a man can always dream can't he?"

With that he sprang at Mahaad and slashed at him with yet another knife.

Mahaad was waiting for the thief to make a move this time, and ducked underneath him.

"Gods, please lend me your strength," the priest prayed quickly, hoping for a miracle.

Bakura lunged at him a few more times, but couldn't land a cut on him.

"Coward," he spat. "Weakling."

"Oh I'm the coward? I'm unarmed facing someone who's too afraid to throw away his last weapon. What's the matter, scared I'll beat you?"

"Heh, nice try magician. That's not going to work on me."

"So what you really don't have any honor? Fighting an injured weaponless person with a knife?"

"What need have I for honor? You misunderstand me magician, the only important thing is winning. I don't care how I do it, but I like to win. If your _honor_ tells me to disarm myself in a battle because you don't have a weapon then you're a bigger fool than I thought."

"Well," Mahaad thought to himself. "It was worth a shot."

"Urk." The magician gasped as he felt a sharp pain pierce his stomach. He stood in shock for a moment, trying to comprehend what was happening. "It was the knife," he realized. "Bakura threw it."

He collapsed to his knees, chest heaving as he clutched at the weapon. He stared downwards at the injury, mouth agape from the unexpected wound. Blood trickled slowly downwards from the gash.

"My, that looks like it hurt. How unfortunate."

He strolled over, bending down and looking at Mahaad in the face with twinkling eyes and a disturbingly bright smile. "I told you to cooperate. I warned you of the consequences. You didn't want to listen and look what happened. The kid gloves are off now. You thought what I did to you was bad before? You'll beg for me to go back to dropping coals on you, magician."

He grabbed Mahaad by the chin and pulled him upright.

"It begins now."

Bakura grabbed the knife and twisted it deeper into Mahaad.

He let out a cry of pain, but was unable to do anything to resist him.

"Why... Why can't I do anything," the priest thought. "I can't move my arms..."

Tears rolled down his cheeks from the excruciating pain. They encouraged Bakura more, and the thief started laughing hysterically.

He threw the magician to the floor and stepped on his face, mashing his sandal on him.

"Are you having fun yet?" the thief shrieked. "I've never had so much fun!"

"Why am I so weak..." Mahaad thought. "I can't do anything against him... I..."

The thief stepped on his throat, making the magician choke.

"He's... Going to kill me. I swore I'd make sure... He'd never hurt anybody else... I can't give up.

The magician gasped for air, running out of breath. He thought it was all going to end right there. Bakura took his foot off, then kicked his side so hard he flipped Mahaad over.

Mahaad gasped for air when he entered a coughing fit. He had trouble getting air into his lungs after that.

"Now do you see how restrained I've been with you magician? This is still nothing compared to what I can do to you."

He seemed to have calmed himself down a bit, having beaten Mahaad so harshly.

"I... I almost didn't make it... I have to stop him now..."

Mahaad still couldn't move; he laid down on his hands and knees, clutching at the knife with one hand.

Bakura walked over in front of the coughing, sobbing magician, admiring his handiwork.

He kneeled down, saying, "So had enough yet? Just say the word and I'll stop and lock you back up, nice and safe in your room again."

Mahaad didn't respond.

"You sure? No requests?" The thief smiled.

Mahaad said one word, "Die."

In one swift motion he yanked the knife out of his stomach and stabbed it into the thief's chest.

"Damn!" The thief winced then kicked the magician harshly in the face and examined the wound. It didn't hit anything fatal. No problems. "I think you're going to wish you didn't do that, magician." His smile had disappeared.

"I'm... Not. You... Will though..." the priest managed to sputter through the coughing fits.

Bakura examined the wound again, looking for trickery. The knife suddenly started burning, it was alight with flame! "No, damn! Damn!" He quickly removed the knife from the wound, but it was too late. His skin started to burn around the injury and flame quickly spread throughout his body.

He started frantically searching the room for more water, but he couldn't find any. The magical fire started to consume him, and the thief fell to the floor, unconscious, and soon after, dead.

The magician took little satisfaction in his work. He thought that it would be much more satisfying watching the thief burn, but all it did was make him feel hollow.

He knew he wouldn't last much longer, he was losing too much blood from all of his wounds. He knew he sealed his fate when he pulled that knife out in order to kill Bakura. It was worth it though to make sure nobody else would have to suffer at his hands again.

He felt a sense of calmness overcome him even through the pain. He had avenged Mana, and had killed Bakura. This was the end. He hoped he had done his Pharaoh proud. His Pharaoh was the best friend he could have asked for, yet he wished he could have done better for him.

He saw the world start to fade slowly, giving way to darkness. "Forgive me Pharaoh."


	11. Chapter 11

"Well? Is he going to pull through?"

"I don't know. He's in really bad shape. Look at that stab wound. It's really a wonder that he's alive at all Pharaoh."

He sighed, "I really wish there was something I could do. Poor Mahaad. Well Isis, let me know if his condition changes."

"Yes Pharaoh," she replied.

The Pharaoh left the infirmary and wandered around the palace, thinking.

The priests rescued him a two days ago and had just made it back yesterday. He was nearly dead when they found him next to a pile of ashes and a burnt robe that they assumed belonged to Bakura, and he still hadn't improved since then. He'd been sleeping ever since...

He was very concerned about his friend, and had been anxiously roaming around the palace since they returned. The entire staff of magi had been working their hardest at healing the priest's wounds tirelessly since he arrived. Yet there was something wrong, his wounds weren't responding to their magic.

Why? The Pharaoh wished he knew.

Why did it have to come to this? That they couldn't find the priest until he was already almost dead. If they'd arrived while he was still fighting Bakura, he might not even be injured like this! "I hate this whole damned situation! Why couldn't we help you? Why has fate cursed you like this!" He angrily slammed his fist against a wall.

My friend, my closest friend... What's happened to you?

He continually checked in on Mahaad's progress every few hours, finding he couldn't focus on anything but his friend's condition. He stayed up late into the night, pacing the halls outside of the infirmary, finding he couldn't sleep.

"Pharaoh," said Priest Seto. "Please get some sleep. We need you to rule, and there's no sense worrying over him. Pharaoh, he is probably not going to make it anyways. It's best to keep moving forwards."

"What? I cannot believe what I am hearing from you Seto! I will not give up on Mahaad. No matter how unlikely it is, what good am I if I just give up on him because things aren't looking well?

"All I'm saying is that you've been unable to work since he got back. Are you going to sacrifice your kingdom for him? Pharaoh, I don't want him to die either, but I do not think this worrying will do anything."

The Pharaoh looked troubled. "Maybe you're right... I have been neglecting my duties... Very well I will try to get some rest. Thank you Seto."

"Yes my Pharaoh."


	12. Chapter 12

When the Pharaoh woke up, he heard that the magi had made a breakthrough during the night! Many of his wounds were laced with magic which was intended to make the injuries both resistant to healing magic and much slower to heal. It was a tricky type of magic they had not recognized at first, very characteristic of Bakura's personality.

He breathed a sigh of relief. There was hope yet.

Throughout the next few days, the magi carefully undid the magic that had been used on him, and slowly but surely the priest began to heal. Finally, a full 5 days after he had been at the palace, he burst awake, chest heaving as he realized he had been dreaming. It was about Bakura, torturing him again. He looked up and noticed the Pharaoh standing over him.

"P... Pharaoh! Am... Am I still alive?"

"You almost weren't," said the Pharaoh. "The priests were lucky enough to find you and bring you back here. You look upset though, what's the matter?"

"Oh... It was... Just a bad dream, but I was rescued?"

"Yes, Isis, Shadaa, and Karim located you shortly after you fought Bakura and brought you back here. You can thank them that you're alive."

"I'm very glad that they saved me. Pharaoh I promise to try to recover as quickly as possible so I can return to serving you."

The Pharaoh placed his hand on Mahaad's shoulder. "No. Stay and rest as long as it takes you to fully recover. I know you went through a lot back there, and I don't want you trying to get out before you're ready, okay Mahaad?"

"Alright Pharaoh... But as soon as I'm fully healed I'll be ready."

The Pharaoh spent a few more minutes talking with the priest, then apologized as he had to leave and work.

When he left, Mahaad laid back down and closed his eyes, feeling immensely grateful that his comrades had saved him. He'd have to thank them and apologize for his carelessness. And to the Pharaoh.

Suddenly he had an image of the thief laughing and his whip flying through the air at him.

He jumped and winced, scared that the image came so suddenly out of nowhere.

He calmed himself down, taking deep breaths.

"Where did that even come from? I wasn't even thinking about anything..."

He laid back down for a few more minutes when he had another vision; of Bakura's twisted face as he was pushing the knife deeper inside of him. Mahaad's stomach lurched and he found himself shaking.

"No... This isn't happening." Memories started filling his mind, of the awful things the thief had done to him. There were so many... He covered his face with his hands and tried to make the horrors go away. He felt tears trickle down his face uncontrollably. When it stopped, he found was sobbing. He was afraid of his mind, and what it was doing to him.

He realized something.

He had killed Bakura, yes, but Bakura had won.


End file.
